


He's Like Fire and Ice and Rage

by Raikishi



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Male-Female Friendship, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 19:50:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raikishi/pseuds/Raikishi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fury of the Time Lord.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's Like Fire and Ice and Rage

**Author's Note:**

> Re-uploaded from an old account
> 
> Tumblr prompt fill: one character saves another. Set after Midnight.

    So this is breaking. 

    And there is fear and weariness and sorrow. 

    But most of all, there is anger.

    There is righteous rage, all-consuming and hateful.

    He knows this feeling well, like an old friend. It is a black pit in the center of his stomach, leaving nothing but dark hatred behind. He knows how dangerous this rage can be, knows it’s a time bomb set in the pit of his stomach but he can’t let go. 

    Not when Biff walks pass him with his shoulders stiff and spine rigid as if he’s done nothing wrong. Not when Val follows after him, fingers curled into tight fists as she stomps pass, the lines of her mouth tight as she resolutely refuses to look at him. None of them do, not Dee Dee and not Professor Hobbes who stare at opposite corners as they walk pass, gait listless and defeated. 

    It’s not better when someone does turn to him; it’s actually worst when Jethro turns, so many thousand times worst. There are so many shades of emotion in that young face: hope, guilt and a bit of fear and normally that’d do it, ease that anger. Because humans have always so young, so hopeful even as they tripped over their own feet and destroyed the world. It had always been okay, because there had always been potential for change, potential for something better. 

    But he can’t think of that now, not when that black rage churns like the waves in the midst of a storm. So he turns away, ignores the apology scrawled out in the boy’s face. He needs to get out before he breaks completely, before that fragile cage of self control shatters to allow that black venom surge forth. 

    “Doctor!”

    It’s an arm around his neck that makes him drop the bomb. It’s a bright smile that makes him forget about chasing after it. And it’s a certain ginger’s tale about her luck at the minibar that makes him turn his back on it completely, wiping it from his mind. She’s holding a blue drink with a funny little umbrella that she fiddles with as he talks, a smile splitting her face, softening all her edges.

    “You will not believe what they have here,” Donna is saying, gesturing animatedly with a drink that shines like gems. She’s touching a hand to her face, a grin splitting her face, “Look at my face. Baby soft- oh, this place is heaven! You should listen to me next time, take a spa day- shrink up those pores a little alien-boy. If I’m going to be traveling with you, you could at least put a little effort.”

    And he’s smiling despite himself as he remembers, exactly why he runs with humans, why he chooses to save them time and time again. 

    It’s because he needs to return the favor.


End file.
